The Detective
by ConsultingDetectiveOfGallifrey
Summary: When a Jedi is murdered, there is only one person to turn to. Except, he doesn't seem too interested in the case. Instead he finds it rather boring.


**This was actually written as an English assignment, however as I'm quite pleased with the result I decided to post it here. It was a fun challenge trying to incorporate Sherlock into the Star Wars universe, and I'm considering expanding upon this if enough interest is shown. Hope you enjoy it, and thank you for reading.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or Star Wars.**

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Xavier Deforrest was very good at his job. As a Jedi peacekeeper, he was in charge of investigating and preventing crimes, as well as dealing out the appropriate punishment for those caught. He had been working this job for years and had never seen a case like this.

A Jedi had been killed in his home. The weapon of choice had been a lightsaber. This is where his problem lay. Lightsabers were not easy to come by, very few non-Jedi's had possession of them, and as the victims own lightsaber was untouched, that left only one possibility: he had a traitor on his hands. A Jedi betraying and killing a fellow member was not something to be taken lightly, and so with reluctance, he had been forced to call in backup from a nearby planet.

He hated when higher ups got involved. They were always so nosy, pointing out every little thing he was doing wrong and telling him what to do.

When he saw who was coming to help though, his mood lightened considerably. Gregory Lestrade was a good man. Though slightly higher in rank, Lestrade's job was very similar to his own, and he knew from past experience that Lestrade was not quite as quick to judge as many of the other men of his rank.

When Lestrade arrived, Deforrest went to greet him. There was a polite smile on his face until he saw that Lestrade was not alone.

The person accompanying him was a tall man with dark, curly hair. He wore dark grey robes in contrast with the usual brown or tan. However the lightsaber at his hip gave away his Jedi status. Trailing after him was a shorter man, clad in light tan, also a Jedi.

"Who are you?"

Before the mysterious stranger could reply, Lestrade answered for him. "His name is Sherlock Holmes. He was privately trained. He's very good at what he does."

"You mean he never attended the Jedi Academy?"

"No I did not." Sherlock replied, "But I assure you I am fully capable of doing my job despite your obvious bias against those who did not receive the same prestige of training as you did. This bias indicates that you harbor a deep set insecurity about your own status, which you then hide behind an arrogant attitude. I could further analyze your condition, perhaps pinpointing a cause for this insecurity, but frankly I do not believe you are worth my time."

With that, Sherlock turned and walked away, leaving Deforrest spluttering with outrage.

"Sorry about him." Deforrest turned to the man who had spoken, the short one. "Sherlock doesn't have much in terms of social skills, but he really is brilliant. I'm John, by the way, John Watson. And I did go to the Jedi Academy, in case you wanted to know." He gave a slight nod, then turned to chase after his friend.

Deforrest faced Lestrade, hoping for an explanation of why these men were here.

The Jedi in question smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, I probably should have warned you about Sherlock. He hasn't failed me yet though. He'll have an answer to your mystery before you know it. We should probably head down there and make sure he isn't causing trouble. Usually John does a good job of keeping him in check, but it can't hurt to check on him. I'll have to look at the crime scene anyway, for my official report."

Deforrest walked with Lestrade down to the scene, disliking Holmes more and more with each word he heard about him.

When they arrived at the crime scene, Sherlock was in the middle of using the Force to levitate the victim's body so that he could peer underneath it.

For a moment, Deforrest was impressed. It took substantial skill to move something as large as a person, especially with the casual ease Sherlock was displaying. However his mood quickly changed to anger as he realized that Sherlock may well be damaging the evidence.

"Hey!" he cried, "you can't do that!"

Sherlock merely raised an eyebrow, but lowered the body back to the ground anyway. "Don't worry about the evidence, there's nothing more to learn from here, not that your team would be able to regardless. As for your 'mystery', you're not looking for a murderer, this was a suicide."

"But his lightsaber wasn't even near him!"

Sherlock let out a long suffering sigh, "It's quite obvious if you just look. The position of the objects around his home indicate that he was adept at using the Force to move small objects around. He was certainly capable of moving his lightsaber to the other side of the room. This also explains why there was no sign of forced entry and no one else had touched his saber recently. Looking at the state of his clothes, it's obvious that he suffered from some form of depression. If you talk to people who knew him, I'm sure that the accounts will line up. Now if you will excuse me, I have more important things to attend to. I'm unsure why you even called me out in the first place, this was hardly a challenge."

Deforrest watched in disbelief as, for the second time that day, Sherlock simply walked away from him without properly explaining himself."You can't possibly believe him?" he asked Lestrade, who was already ordering the workers to start cleaning up.

"After working with him awhile, you start to just trust him."

Deforrest shook his head. Right or not, he didn't like people who barged in and thought they could do his job better than himself. Sherlock Holmes, he would have to watch out for that man.


End file.
